


Technicolor Love

by Stilienski



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Color Blindness, Crack, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, I made up some bullshit werewolf lore just for a punchline, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:41:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22104241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stilienski/pseuds/Stilienski
Summary: Peter is a little self-conscious about a werewolf issue, but Stiles reassures him when he eventually finds out.Or the one where Peter refuses to admit he is anything less than perfect, Stiles gives him a soft and gentle reality check.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 10
Kudos: 369





	Technicolor Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xlogophile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xlogophile/gifts).



> Happy birthday, xlogophile!

It took years for Stiles to catch on, which he was not proud of. So he was never going to let Peter live this down. It all started with Kira’s birthday cake.

He’d been slaving away in the kitchen all day. He’d made cupcakes and a big birthday cake. It’s only when he was making the frosting for the cupcakes that Stiles realized there was no way he’d have enough yellow food coloring left to also color the fondant orange to cover the cake. Peter was still at work but he’d happily make a grocery run on his way back. All Stiles had to do was give him a quick ring and then he’d still be able to get everything done in time for the party.

Stiles had finished all the cupcakes with a gorgeous swirl of orange frosting and a touch of rainbow sprinkles and then he’d moved on to decorating the house. It was a rush job, but as long as Peter brought home the food coloring they’d be good to go.

“Honey, I’m home!” Peter sing-songed the moment he entered the house. Stiles was standing on the dining table, trying to attach a happy birthday garland to the lamps hanging over it.

“Thank god!” Stiles exclaimed, “Can you just help me put this up really quickly? What time is it?”

Peter took his coat and shoes off and dropped the bag of groceries just beside the dining table for easy access. “It’s about five, I left work early,” he climbed on the table with Stiles and gave him a quick kiss hello. “I knew you’d be stressing.” He tied his end of the garland to one lamp.

Stiles smiled, relieved. “Thanks, babe. I can’t believe Scott forgot he’d planned a trip for the both of them. No more last minute changes to birthday party plans! A stressed baker is an unhappy baker and unhappy bakers spit in the dough.”

“It will be fine, and if not, you can still blame Scott,” Peter said, as he helped Stiles get back on the floor so they could both admire their handywork.

Stiles nodded approvingly at the sight of the garland and then turned back to Peter, “You know he’ll just get out of it with his puppy dog eyes.”

Peter shrugged and pulled Stiles in for a proper kiss.

Stiles indulged him for a moment or two, but his mind kept jumping to the unfinished cake in the kitchen. Which was truly no comment at all on Peter’s kissing skills, but he just had to finish that freaking cake.

“So, food coloring!” Stiles quickly pulled away from Peter and started rifling through the bag. He thought he’d found it only to then hold the tiny bottle up to the light and slowly turn to Peter. “Green? Peter, please tell me this is a joke and that you actually have a yellow bottle in your back pocket that I have to pay for with a blowjob or something.”

The sudden stiffening of Peter’s back was not a good sign. “No, that’s the yellow one,” Peter said tightly.

“No, Peter, it’s really fucking not,” Stiles thrusted the offending bottle right in front of Peter’s nose for him to have a look at the hard evidence that he had obviously screwed up Kira’s birthday cake on purpose. “What the fuck, Peter! I only have 83 minutes left before everyone arrives!”

Peter was already putting his shoes back on. “I’ll go straight back to the store, there’s still time.”

Stiles was surprised Peter wasn’t arguing about this more. The response he’d expected would have been something along the lines of “Oh but a green cake will taste just as good, anyway it’s Scott’s fault for moving the party up a week earlier.” But this came way too close to an actual apology and more importantly and admittance of wrong doing. Peter Hale, admitting to making a mistake. Yeah, not very likely.

But Peter had already donned his coat, pressed a quick kiss against Stiles’ cheek and ran out the door again.

Peter must have broken a dozen speed limits, but at least Stiles was able to get the birthday cake done in a beautiful sunset orange before everyone arrived. It was definitely still weird though.

*****

A couple months after that incident, Peter came home from work in a bad mood. A very bad mood. Stiles had gotten pretty good at reading his moods over the years, and this one was very clearly aimed at him even though it probably should have been aimed at who-ever spilled coffee over Peter’s suit jacket. Or at himself for not just taking it off for the day and pleading his court case in just his pants, shirt and tie instead of putting on a suit jacket that was just a couple shades off from his pants, making it look like the jacket had faded in the sun or been washed wrong.

“Hey, babe, how did the case go?” Stiles asked carefully.

“Splendid. Yes, went just flawlessly,” Peter sneered, throwing his bag on the couch. “Until Mario took me aside afterwards to ask me if I needed a place to stay, if things were all going okay at home, between us. Because apparently I look like I didn’t know how to operate the dingy washing machines in a motel since I’m wearing the wrong jacket.” He tugged on his lapels, leaning closer to Stiles to make sure he got his point across. Though Stiles sadly had to admit, he was not getting the point.

“How is that my fault?” Stiles threw his hands up, “You’re forty-two years old, Peter, I’m going to take a wild assumption here and say that you are in fact capable of dressing yourself!” 

“It’s your fault because you switched around the jackets after doing laundry! This is how I took the suit off the hanger!”

“Oh, sure! Like I did it on purpose!” Stiles rolled his eyes and made a conscious effort to calm himself down. “You have a perfect set of working eyes, Peter, and it’s not like you don’t spend any time looking in the mirror while you get ready.”

Peter huffed and Stiles braced himself for more shouting, but Peter just turned around and walked upstairs.

“Hey! What’s up with you? You never just leave in the middle of an argument!”

“We’re not in the middle of an argument, we’re done with the argument. We both made a mistake. We’ll both ensure it doesn’t happen again. There. Done,” Peter said with finality before closing the bedroom door and effectively ending the conversation.

*****

Stiles had noted the argument, filed it away for later under ‘weird stuff Peter’s done and we should probably talk about’. But this time he didn’t have to wait quite as long. It was only two days after the suit incident that something else happened.

The whole pack had gotten together to celebrate the sheriff’s birthday. Since his birthday was the one day Stiles wasn’t on his back about his eating habits, the sheriff usually demanded they go to a good restaurant. This year he’d managed to book a table at an all-you-can-eat buffet without Stiles finding out about it beforehand.

He decided to let it slide. Mostly because there was a cancellation fee that Stiles was definitely not paying. Also maybe because he saw the desert buffet as they walked in.

It ended up being a great time. Stiles had had the good, healthy idea of sitting as far away from his dad as possible so he didn’t have to watch him eat his way to a heart attack.

“You know it’s a really good thing the world doesn’t know about wolves, because all buffet places would ban you guys,” Stiles said, holding his overly full belly gently, when all the werewolves stood up for a last run to the desert buffet.

Peter chuckled and put a hand on his shoulder. “So I suppose there’s nothing I can bring back for you then?” He said with a knowing smirk.

“One of those tiny pink square things? I already had one of the green colored ones, maybe the pink thing tastes better,” Stiles said hopefully.

“Sure,” Peter said, squeezing his shoulder before he went off.

Peter came back with a plate full of tiny adorable looking pastries like all the other wolves. Stiles shot a quick look to the owner of the place and had to suppress a giggle at the look of pure and utter disbelief on the man’s face. He had remembered to bring the bite sized squares of puff pastry with a creamy filling. He’d brought a green one which had tasted vaguely of apple and a pink one.

Stiles made grabby hands which prompted Peter to roll his eyes before grabbing a piece of pastry and putting it on Stiles’ plate with a fond smile.

Stiles squinted at it for a second, then looked back at Peter. The latter’s eyes widened for a split second before he took the green pastry back and switched it with the pink one. All the wolves’ eyes were on Stiles. Except for Derek’s, which were rolling so hard, Stiles was mildly concerned he’d pull a muscle. Or a tendon. Whatever it was that connected your eyeballs to your brain.

He quickly went over all the weird incidents in his head. The food coloring. The mismatched suit. The wrong piece of pastry.

“Peter, are you color blind?” Stiles asked.

Peter scoffed. “Don’t be preposterous, sweet boy, eat your desert.”

“Wolves can’t see colors, can they?” Stiles wondered aloud, carefully watching everyone at the table.

“I painted the entire house, dear, and I chose the colors,” Peter cut into one of his tiny deserts, looking haughtily down at his plate. “Which was a good thing too, since-”

Stiles interrupted him with an eyeroll. “Yeah, yeah, I don’t have taste, it would have looked a right disaster, whatever. I was talking about actual wolves, Peter. They can’t see colors.”

“Oh I don’t know about-”

Once again, stiles didn’t let him finish. “And it’s the full moon tomorrow. You’re as close to your wolfy-self as possible.”

“Stiles, please, you don’t have to use your I-cracked-the-case-wide-open voice, there was no case,” Peter tried one more time to get Stiles to drop it. But Stiles found the werewolf doth protest too much.

“What I don’t get is why you’re so sensitive about this. Lots of people are colorblind. And you’re not even colorblind all of the time, you just get colorblind towards the full moon,” Stiles pointed his fork at Peter, “Now obviously I can see how annoying and difficult that must be when say… your lovely mate asks for you to bring home some food coloring, or when you’re trying to get dressed. But honestly, it’s really not that big of a deal.”

“Good, then we can stop discussing this,” Peter said with finality to his voice, putting a tiny donut in his mouth and looking pointedly away from Stiles.

Stiles looked at the back of his head incredulously, “Did you seriously think I would think that was some sort of dealbreaker?”

Peter didn’t answer, just continued chewing.

“You’re an idiot, Peter Hale. If I can put up with claws and fangs and glowing eyes I can also put up with you being part time colorblind.”

“Those are features,” Peter pointed out with a scowl.

“Features,” Stiles repeated softly, finally seeing Peter’s twisted point. He rolled his eyes and took Peter’s chin to gently turn his head so they were facing each other. “You seriously think being colorblind is a bug, a weakness? People aren’t perfect, Peter, and not every single imperfection is a weakness. We all have bugs and your bugs don’t bug me,” Stiles said with conviction, then kissed him before finishing his pastry. The relief from the other people at the table was palpable. Stiles almost felt bad about causing a scene, but then he did it so often he was used to it and the pack should probably be too by now.

Later, when Stiles came out of the shower to find Peter sitting up against the headboard of the bed with a book in his lap, Stiles figured his wolf could use another little pick-me-up. He pulled the book out of Peter’s hands, put the bookmark between the pages before putting it aside, and straddled him. Stiles put his hands around Peter’s neck and kissed him slowly.

“You may see things in black and white, but my love for you is technicolor bright.”

Peter laughed, grabbing Stiles before rolling them both over. “That was terrible, sweet boy.”

Stiles scoffed, offended, “It was _romantic_ , Peter.”

Peter shook his head, “It was terrible, and you know it.”

“You take that back,” Stiles countered, a mischievous smile on his face.

“Or what?” Peter grinned.

Stiles wriggled out of his sweat pants in a super elegant manner before answering “Or I make you guess the color of my panties before I let you take them off.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it!
> 
> If you're looking for a Peter centric fic, head on over to my second account [Stilienski_daily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stilienski_daily) where I've got a diary fic going with daily updates. Would love to see you there!


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